


to wish impossible things

by deadasadoorknob



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adopted Children, First Kiss, M/M, Marriage, POV Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadasadoorknob/pseuds/deadasadoorknob
Summary: Draco Malfoy is sick of everything. His father Lucius, the racist views he's been taught since birth, the unnecessary rivalry with the Wizarding World's saviour - Harry Potter. And before the vicious war breaks out, Draco plans to reconcile with all the people he's hurt before he goes.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	to wish impossible things

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the rights to any of the characters below or the universe, as they are creations of the wonderul J.K Rowling. This story is based on a Tumblr post published by Parseltonguing: https://me.me/i/parseltonguing-i-want-a-fic-where-draco-just-decides-that-7437203 Hope you enjoy the story! xo

Draco Lucius Malfoy strode down the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, holding his head high as the black robes swirled around his figure. His heels clicked against the uneven ground as the crowd of Hogwarts students parted way for him, watching the young Malfoy wearily as he slid silently by them.

They feared Draco. He hated it.

He strutted right up to the Barber’s and peered into the store, chilly breath fogging the glass. There were customers sitting in chairs and laughing into the mirrors as their hairdresser’s stood over them, chopping feverishly. 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door in and waited patiently at the counter. A few moments later, a young woman with a nose ring walked up to him and smiled kindly.

‘Good morning!’ She said cheerily. ‘Now what are you after today?’

‘Just looking to have my hair coloured.’ Draco replied hesitantly. 

The women smiled again and took his hand, leading him over to a vacant chair and seating him. Draco waited anxiously as she bustled around; eventually returning with a plastic bowl and a bottle of white cream.

‘May I ask what colour you want?’

‘The brightest blue you have, madam.’  


Her smile froze on her face, wide eyes looking him up-and-down as she took in his figure. Draco shrunk into himself as her face suddenly lit up with recognition.

‘You’re Malfoy’s son. What would he think about this funny business?’

‘Frankly, my father can go fuck himself.’

She winced at the foul language before caving and mixing the dye together. Draco shut his eyes tightly and waited for the comb to slick his platinum blonde locks away.

The women, whose name he discovered was Angelique, spoke to him energetically as she scraped the cream through his hair. She asked him about his NEWT preparation, what Quidditch team he supported, and what book was his favourite. 

As if everything was okay. Like their society wasn’t on the brink of war.

Draco loved it.

Once she was done, Angelique plastered his hair with shiny foil and let it set for a long time. Then she peeled it all away and fell upon Draco with a drying spell.

Draco noted that this was the first time that his hairdresser had used magic during her work, and he expressed this knowledge.

‘My parents are both Muggles,’ Angelique said quietly. ‘And they’re hairdressers too. They taught me how to do hair traditionally, and I don’t plan on doing it any differently.’

So, his barber was a Muggle-born. Draco was surprised to find that he didn’t care.

‘Okay, you can look now.’ Came the soft voice perhaps ten minutes later.

Draco looked up to see electric blue locks tumbling over his pale forehead. His pale eyes flashed silver in contrast to the new hair, making him look angelic.

‘Thank you.’ Draco breathed.

Angelique just laughed. ‘All in a day’s work, my boy.’

*

That afternoon, Draco strode into seventh period - Potions - and took his usual spot at the front desk, next to his best friend Pansy Parkinson. Pansy’s mouth moved open-and-shut like a goldfish as she took in his new appearance, while Draco just smirked smugly.

‘Dray-’ She started, but then Severus entered the room and she fell silent.

Severus was moody, as usual, during the beginning of the lesson. That was until he noticed Draco’s new hair and his face paled to an unattractive greenish colour.

He shakily returned to teaching the class until eventually setting his students up with a practical. While the others set to brewing everlasting elixirs, Severus gestured for Draco to follow him towards the back of the classroom.

‘Draco...what is the meaning of this?’ He whisper-screamed, beetle-black eyes growing wide as Draco sniggered. ‘I know the past six months have been especially hard for you, but I cannot stress how important it is for you to maintain a stable headspace.’

‘But-’ Draco started, but Severus interrupted him.

‘Stay back after class, and I can quickly brew a potion that will return your hair to its original colour. You can-’

‘SHUT UP!’ Draco shrieked, causing many of his classmates to spin around and stare at the conversing pair. Amongst those was Harry Potter, regarding him disbelievingly with those gorgeous green eyes of his.

‘Mr. Malfoy-’

Draco felt his magic crackling irritably as a flask suddenly exploded behind him, nearly catching Seamus Finnigan in the eye. He flipped Severus off with both hands as he summoned his satchel towards him. 

‘Don’t give me any of that “mister” bull-shit.’ Draco growled, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stormed out of the class.

He had no idea where to go. There was still forty minutes left of class. Draco looked around wildly at the empty corridor, before remembering a certain person.

Draco rushed down to the grounds, dumping his bag at the bottom of the steps and hurrying towards Rubeus Hagrid’s little hut. His heart had jumped into his throat by the time he raised his fist to knock on the wooden door.

Hagrid opened the door instantly, face filling with shock as he took in the unlikely visitor. His eyes flickered up to Draco’s hair as his lips curled into a grin, nodding knowingly.

‘Draco Malfoy! Now wha’ do I owe tha’ pleasure?’ 

‘I’m here to formerly apologise, sir. I acted like an asshole towards you ever since I stepped foot into the castle. Truth be told, I was jealous that you chose Potter and his cronies over me...and I figured that with the war and everything...The war’s going to kill me anyway...’

When Draco burst into tears the last reaction that he expected was for Hagrid to pull him into a tight hug. He buried his head into Hagrid’s torso as his body shook with sobs, his legs threatening to give out and crumple to the ground.

‘There, there. As much as ya look like yer father, you’re really nothin’ like ‘im at all.’ 

Hagrid soothed Draco, running an enormous hand up-and-down his back. ‘Crying’s a good thing, mean’s that yer’ve got empathy – a very strong trait, I’ll tell ya that now.’

‘I’ll do anything f-for you to forgive me.’ Draco whimpered, wiping his eyes.

‘Pfft! Yer just a kid Malfoy and have still gotta figure out who ya are. All’s forgiven. But,’ Hagrid winked at him cheekily, ‘I do have some dung out back that needs cleanin’ up.’

Draco laughed through his tears and set to work soon after.

*

A few days later, Draco was sitting with his friends at the Slytherin table, chewing on a piece of bubble-gum-blue hair while listening to Blaise Zabini drone on. He absent-mindedly noticed that Hermione Granger was waving a Muggle novel around in the air while she told Potter and Ron Weasley about it excitedly.

Apparently, Blaise noticed this too.

‘Look at the mud-blood chewing the Gryffindor’s ears off about that stupid book. I heard her telling Parvati Patil about it earlier today; sound’s dreadfully boring.’

‘Well, what do you expect?’ Theodore replied. ‘Muggle’s can't write good literature to save their lives.’

‘Oh, fuck off!’ Draco snarled and they all stared at him in shock.

Draco shook his head furiously – he’d had enough. Jumping up from his seat, he wordlessly picked up his things and strutted away from his friends and up to the Gryffindor table, where the Golden Trio were staring at him.

‘I-love-that-book.’ Draco said nervously, stringing the sentence together.

Granger looked down at her copy of Pride and Prejudice and then at him.

‘You read Jane Austen?’ 

‘I love her.’

She smiled as moved over, gesturing for Draco to sit down beside her. He did.

Potter was goggling at him from across the table, and Draco had a sudden burst of confidence. He grinned at Potter and gestured towards him.

‘Come over here, Scar-head.’

The raven-haired boy was up on his feet in a flash and stumbling around the table towards him. Draco grabbed the shorter boy by the shoulders and held him tightly; just like Hagrid had hugged him earlier that week. He buried his nose in Potter’s ridiculous hair as he traced the lightning-bolt scar with a single shaking finger.

'I'm sorry.' Draco murmured shakily.

‘Draco.’ Potter replied quietly.

‘Harry.’ Draco pushed him away and instead grabbed a fistful of his robes, pulling the boy towards him and into a searing kiss. Harry gasped and threw his arms around Draco’s neck, pulling lightly on the blue hairs.

Draco pulled back and murmured against the other’s lips. ‘I’ll be dead in a few weeks, so, I figured – why not?’

‘You’re not going to die.’ Harry replied sternly.

‘I am.’

‘No, you’re not.’

‘I am.’

‘You’re not.’

He should have remembered that once the Chosen One had his mindset on something, there was nothing you could do but let him win.

Draco Malfoy-Potter only acknowledged this fact as he sat in a warm chair beside the fire and watched his two beautiful children fighting over a plush phoenix. Waiting for when Harry would Apparate home and he would gather his husband into his arms, forcing all his gratitude into a kiss just as fiery as their first one in the dining hall all those years ago.


End file.
